


untitled christmas sci-fi AU

by saturnblushes (writingforhugs)



Series: christmas AUs (MCU) [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Christmas in space, Sci-Fi, asteroids - Freeform, space, space spuds, space travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingforhugs/pseuds/saturnblushes
Summary: Deep into a thirty-month mission into the vacuum of space, the crew of the Virginia celebrate Christmas.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: christmas AUs (MCU) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581799
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	untitled christmas sci-fi AU

**Author's Note:**

> i love space and i love christmas! all mistakes mine, let me know if you find any, and if you have a title idea! puns are encouraged

“ _Benetar_ is t-minus fifteen minutes,” said Wanda, turning slightly in her chair.

Steve looked up from his screen. “Any reports?”

“Only that everything is fine. Wilson said his samples came out better than he expected.”

Steve nodded. Good. The mission to the asteroid wasn’t particularly risky, and Sam and Natasha were the best pilots the crew had, but he always worried when members of his team were away from the _Virginia_. At least on board he knew everyone was in one place, that there was less of a chance of something going catastrophically wrong when they were all together.

It was a simple retrieval task. Sam wanted debris samples, Nat wanted to see the object up close and to test out the new accelerant Tony had developed for her ship. They’d been gone six hours. Steve was glad they were headed back and that they could get moving again.

Granted, the asteroid cluster they’d been anchored to was a nice break to the monotony of space, even if most of them were just slowly spinning grey blobs. Of course there were planets and gas clouds and stars to look at occasionally, but amidst it all, there was an awful lot of black nothingness. But he liked to be moving. Liked to keep going.

While they waited for _Benetar_ to return, Steve finished up a report to send back to base and chatted with Wanda and Clint about calling home for the holidays.

“Pietro says that tracking the ship reminds him of tracking Saint Nick back home,” Wanda said, smiling fondly. “I told him I’m not going to be bringing him gifts anytime soon.”

“You can send him some space dust,” Steve suggested. “It would only be six months late.”

“See, you gotta plan ahead like I do,” Clint said, reclining back in his chair. “I bought a shit tonne of gifts before I left, made sure they were all wrapped and dated. Now my kids can just open them and it’s like I’m there.”

“You gonna vidchat them?”

“Yeah. Can you believe Nate’s three now?”

He pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture. Steve and Wanda leaned in like they didn’t see pictures of Clint’s kids all the time, stuck to his cubby, his door, and to the lid of his laptop.

“He looks like Laura,” Wanda observed.

Clint smiled proudly. “Got my nose.”

“Poor kid,” Steve said, grinning.

There was a rolling bell sound. The _Benetar_ was within range. Wanda slid on her headset.

“ _Benetar,_ you are cleared for entry. Hangar 2, if you please.”

 _“Clear, Virginia_.” Nat’s voice crackled through the line. “ _See you in a minute._ ”

Steve watched them docking. Waited for the green light that meant they were stable and that the hangar was locked and equalised before heading for the door.

It slid open to reveal a short corridor, lit from below by bars of light. At the end, some double doors—the elevator that took you straight down to the hangars. After a few minutes, the triangle above the doors lit up, and then after another minute, the doors slid open, revealing Nat and Sam.

They were already out of their suits, Nat holding Sam’s jacket, Sam holding a tray of samples like they were the baby Jesus.

“How’d it go?” Steve asked.

“Great,” Sam said, grinning wide. “The sediments are all the perfect size—got plenty from each site.”

“Good,” Steve said. “Nat? Did Tony’s accelerant work?”

“Sort of. I have plenty of notes. I think the propellers need cleaning first.” She winked at him as she walked past. “I’m gonna debrief and then shower and I’ll see you boys at dinner.”

“See you,” Steve said, and she vanished onto the deck. He heard her talking to Wanda and Clint and then the doors slid shut again.

“Look,” said Sam, gazing at the grey sediments in the tray he was holding. Each was sealed up in a little plastic box, all meticulously labelled, ready for testing. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Nicest rocks I’ve ever seen,” Steve deadpanned. Sam didn’t even react.

“Your boy will like these,” he said instead. “I’ll give him what I don’t use. See if he can grow something on it.”

“Yeah, he’d like that,” Steve smiled. Bucky always liked a challenge. Apparently plain old space botany wasn’t quite enough anymore.

“I’ll wrap them up with a little bow. Perfect Christmas present for him.”

“I actually genuinely think he’d enjoy that,” Steve laughed. “I won’t tell him.”

Sam grinned. “I’ll take these up to the lab. Do you know if he’s in there?”

“Last I heard he was in hydroponics,” Steve said. “I doubt he’s moved.”

Sam headed up the corridor and Steve returned to the deck. Nat was working on her report. Thor had redirected the ship and they were now pulling away from the asteroid cluster. Wanda was fiddling with some kind of robotics. Steve went to the observation room just down the way and called Peggy.

“I snuck some pie into the last supply ship,” she said. She was back on Earth, in London, sat in some swish office. It looked festive, from the little Steve could see behind her. A string of lights, grey skies and snow falling in the background. He missed the cold and cosiness of winter, especially winter in New York. It was bitter and miserable but it was home.

“You didn’t,” he said, leaning towards the camera as an unexpectedly eager feeling swept through him. “Peg, are you serious?”

“Straight from Angie’s kitchen,” she said. “Managed to sweet-talk the techs running the supply inventory. It might be freeze-dried but I don’t think you’ll mind.”

“I won’t,” Steve grinned. “I had no idea. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Peggy smiled at him. “How are things, Steve? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. They’d both been busy. “Things are good. Really good. Making great progress. Sam and Nat just got back from a retrieval, that all went well. Tell Tony if you see him to look out for Nat’s accelerant assessment.”

“Not brilliant?”

“In need of improvement.”

Peggy lifted her chin. _Ah_.

“But everyone’s well, I think. Missing home and family. Especially now. But we only have eighteen months left.”

Peggy gave him a look that he could feel acutely even over hundreds of millions of miles. “Only,” she said wryly, pursing her lips. “We’ll throw a big party when you get back. Get you all some proper food.”

Steve closed his eyes. “I would kill for some fresh water, actually.”

“Recycled urine doesn’t hit the spot, huh?”

“No. Especially when Barton keeps reminding us about it.”

“You got plans for tomorrow?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah. We’re making a nice meal. Tony’s sent over some classics. I think it’s just gonna be daily tasks and then the afternoon off, all things permitting. Movies, food, music. It’ll be nice.”

“Sounds it. You cooking?”

Steve laughed. “No. Not again. Wanda’s taking charge this time. Sam is her right hand. I’m not even gonna stir things.”

Peggy grinned.

“Oh, Steve,” she said. “I’ll message you tomorrow and check in again.”

“Alright,” Steve murmured. “Have a good Christmas.”

“You too, Steve,” Peggy replied. “Wish everyone the same from me.”

“Of course,” he said. He gave a little wave. She blew him a kiss and then the screen went dark.

He returned to the deck. Only Nat remained.

“Nearly done?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said, not looking away from her screen. “Wanda went to find Sam. They’re gonna start cooking for tomorrow.”

“And Clint?”

“Went with Thor to find something to use as a tree.”

“I thought we’d agreed to just decorate Riley.”

Riley was the cactus Sam had been gifted by his husband before launch. It had been a prickly issue since then, since spines didn’t bode well against the vacuum of space, but the damn thing had survived all this time, quite happy under the LEDs Bucky had installed under one of the kitchen cabinets, growing almost a foot larger. Three days earlier, on December 21st, Sam had wound a piece of packing plastic from an old delivery around Riley. It was bright red and surprisingly festive. Nat had drawn a star on some paper and propped it on the top of the plant. Bucky had turned the LEDs to a soft yellow glow. That had been their Christmas tree for the year.

“Clint doesn’t think it’s enough,” Nat said fondly. “Can’t imagine what they’ll find.”

Steve shook his head. He should’ve expected this. Clint loved Christmas. Thor loved Christmas. And though he thought Riley looked pretty damn good, Steve was sure the two of them would have hauled a pine tree onto the ship if it had been possible, if only to decorate it for a week over Christmas.

“I’m gonna check on the kitchen, then go find Buck,” he said, grabbing his comm and securing it to his belt. “See you in a bit.”

“See ya,” Nat said over her shoulder.

Steve checked the navigation system—all clear, a solid course plotted by Thor—and then went back out into the corridor. Walked towards the elevator doors and then turned right, and then left again. Through a set of doors and then down some steps and then he was in the middle of the ship, the kitchen. It was poky, a surprisingly low-ceilinged room for a crew containing someone as towering as Thor Odinson, but it was practical, with a slim port window set beneath a wall of cabinets, some decent worktop space, with a sink, oven set up, and Riley’s little nook, and then on the opposite wall more storage and enough square footage for a table and seven chairs.

“Smells good already,” he commented as he entered, ducking his head. Wanda was preparing something, Sam watching with narrowed eyes. They both took cooking seriously, which was kind of difficult and a little sad when the majority of their food was freeze dried and dehydrated.

“We’re gonna cook it overnight,” Sam said, pointing to a spot Wanda missed. “It’s been in the freezer for months. Hopefully it’ll be alright.”

He moved enough so Steve could see a small but definitely not powdered or blended bird, sat in a little tray and ready for roasting.

“Peggy got us a pie as well,” Steve said, and Wanda gaped at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just called her. She said it was in the locker from the last supply ship.”

“I love that woman,” Sam said. He looked dreamy. “God, pie. Can’t believe I get to eat pie.”

Steve grinned. “Angie made it.”

Sam pretended to stumble, holding onto the countertop. “A Christmas miracle,” he gasped.

Steve gulped down a cup of water and then left them to it. He went back up the steps and up a ladder and eventually reached the hydroponics labs, right at the front of the ship. He typed in the entry code and the door slid open, spilling soft light into the dim hallway. An array of white, yellow, blue, red; all kinds of lights for all kinds of plant-growing purposes. Endless rows of tiny green buds, taller glass containers with corn and wheat growing, or lettuce leaves, or potatoes. Bucky had even managed some flowers and hardy succulents. It was a greenhouse, the closest thing they had to earth on the entire ship.

Steve knocked on the glass. After a moment, there was movement, and Bucky poked his head out from behind a tall, leafy specimen.

“Hey,” he said, voice muffled. “Come on in.”

The change to the air was immediate. It was cool and humid and it smelled like earth and leaves, not warm and dry and smelling vaguely chemically. The percolating water system was soothing, a break to the usual humming drone of the engines.

“Nat and Sam back?” Bucky asked, still hidden behind plants. Steve walked over the grates towards him.

“Yeah. All good. We’re moving again. Sam and Wanda are cooking for tomorrow.”

“You know Peggy sent us a pie.”

“You knew about that?”

“Yeah! You didn’t?”

Steve scoffed. “I guess she wanted it to be a surprise.”

Bucky was bent over a microscope, focusing on something on a slide. His hair was tied back but falling out of its elastic. He’d been in here for most of the day. Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t miss him a little.

“How’re the plants?” he asked, gently grazing his finger over a glossy leaf.

“Fantastic. Apart from the beans. I don’t know why they aren’t taking this time.”

“Oh, not the beans,” Steve said dryly, and Bucky looked away from the microscope to shoot him a withering glare.

“Don’t mock my plants,” he said, twisting a dial on the scope and then standing upright again and scribbling something down in a notepad.

“I’m not,” Steve said, reaching out to put his hand on the small of Bucky’s back. He felt tense. He’d probably been leaning over all day, straining his back. “You gonna stay here all night?”

“Yeah, gonna look after my beans. Someone has to.”

Steve smiled. He leaned in, kissed the back of Bucky’s neck. “It’s Christmas Eve, Buck,” he murmured.

“And? I don’t remember you getting upset when I stayed in here over Hanukkah.”

“Yeah, because that’s your holiday to do what you want with it.”

“I can celebrate Christmas if and how I want to, _Steve_.”

Steve pulled at Bucky’s waistband. Bucky relented, turning to face him properly. He kissed Steve once, twice, three times. “Let me finish this. I’ll be down for dinner.”

“Alright,” Steve said. He kissed him again, hands sliding under Bucky’s shirt. He was warm. He smelled good.

He pulled himself away and left the lab.

Dinner was a variety of rehydrated dishes. They were finishing up an old supply haul and so everyone had to pick something from the leftovers bin on the counter. Conversation was easy, the crew recounting their day. Everyone wanted to know about the retrieval task. Nat showed them an array of photographs of the asteroid, all its lumps and bumps. Then it was washing plates and getting on with end-of-day tasks, like running final checks on nav with Thor, sending out all the data files that needed to be sent, and then an hour in the gym. The gravity on the ship was enough to stop things floating around, but daily exercise was a necessity to keep everyone healthy.

Steve ran and lifted and then watched Bucky sparring with Nat, and then went to shower and tried to calm down, remembering the curve of Bucky’s shoulders, the power in his limbs. But it didn’t work, and when Bucky stepped into the steam and ran his hands over him, saying, _is your head ever outta the gutter, Stevie?_ there was really no point in fighting it.

Sleep came quickly. Bucky was a great pillow.

The next morning, Steve woke with a smile. He stretched and then rolled Bucky over, tracing over his chest with his fingertips and pressing kisses all over him until he stirred.

“G’mornin’,” he slurred, all blurry eyes, thick voice, and bed hair.

“Happy Christmas, Buck,” Steve said, leaning in to kiss him properly.

“Mmm, ‘appy Christmas, Stevie,” Bucky replied, all warm and sleepy. He hauled Steve in closer, arms secure around him.

Steve climbed out of bed first, leaving Bucky panting on top of the sheets, and went to the kitchen to get coffee. As he walked back, he waved to Wanda, who was returning to her quarters with breakfast in hand.

“Say hi to Pietro!” she said, and Steve stuck his head in through the doorway and did so. On Wanda’s personal laptop, sat on her desk, Pietro’s cheery face beamed back at him.

“Nice to see you, cap!” he said. “Srećni praznici!”

Steve grinned. Pietro was a good kid. “Happy holidays to you too, Pietro! How’s it going?”

The rest of the quarters were fairly quiet, but it wouldn’t be long before people were drawn to the kitchen for breakfast. Steve brought the coffee back to his room and sat next to Bucky and sipped it until they both felt awake, and then dressed and returned to the kitchen. Bucky arrived fifteen minutes later.

Breakfast was quiet, like usual. They weren’t all night owls, but Steve, Sam, and Thor had all learned to keep their voices and energy levels to a minimum until Nat, Clint, Bucky, and Wanda had all caffeinated and rid themselves of that _barely awake_ haze in their eyes.

By nine they were gathered on the deck for debrief.

“Well, merry Christmas everyone,” Steve began, and a chorus of replies echoed through the crew. “We have the same drill as usual. Daily tasks take priority. But from 1pm we are free to do what we want. Wanda, Sam, what time are you thinking for the food?”

“Six,” Wanda said. She looked at Sam. “Six-thirty,” she amended.

“Great,” Steve said. “Thor, I’m gonna go over those figures again with you, Clint, you make sure the EVA tanks are up to reg, Nat—”

“I’m checking the reactor propellant,” Nat informed him. She jerked her head towards Bucky. “He’s helping.”

“Sounds good. Any questions, anyone?”

No one raised a hand. Steve nodded. “Let’s get going, then.”

For the next four-ish hours, they worked like normal. Efficient, practiced, easy. Daily checks. Daily procedures. All the little things that made sure the _Virginia_ kept running as well as she did. Diagnostics and methodologies. Everything a routine by now.

The navigation figures took longer than Steve anticipated, especially with the added time of his other individual tasks, and it was almost 2pm when he and Thor finally finished up.

“I’m going to call Jane,” he said, looking both harried and excited. Jane was a stickler for being on time but Steve knew she’d never hold it against Thor.

“Wish her merry Christmas from me,” Steve said, and then the taller man was gone, moving with surprising speed towards the west observation deck.

Steve made his way to the kitchen. As he approached, he could smell food cooking, hear the murmur of chatter, and the sound of Christmas music floated through down the corridor. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was back in his Brooklyn apartment, that he would walk into his poky kitchen and find Bucky staring quizzically at the cooking instructions of whatever he was making for their dinner.

What he found was almost as good. His crew, or most of them, crowded into the kitchen. Nat and Clint sat at the table, preparing vegetables for roasting. Wanda and Sam were crouched in front of the oven. Someone had found tinsel—god knows how or where—and had taped it to the air vents, and it fluttered cheerfully in the breeze. Paper snowflakes were stuck to the cabinet doors and to the glass of the port window. Dean Martin was crooning about mistletoe, of which there was a plastic sprig stuck to the doorway.

“Where’s Bucky?” he asked, sitting down to help Nat and Clint.

“Said he had some real potatoes,” Sam said. “Apparently his fellow plant nerds don’t mind us eating some of them.”

A few minutes later, Bucky reappeared. He carried a plate and on it were seven potatoes. Not remarkable in size or shape or colour but they were potatoes and they were real and he’d grown them on the ship.

“Bon appetit,” he said, the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth indicating that he was more proud than he wanted to let on.

“Space spuds,” said Nat. “There’s nothing better.”

Wanda took the potatoes and Bucky watched with concern as she prepped them for roasting. “Are you sure?” she asked him, looking amused. “You look like I’m trying to cook your pet dog, James.”

“He’s protective of his plants,” Steve said.

“Why does everyone think that’s weird?” Bucky asked, looking around the room. He pointed at Wanda. “You’re practically married to your robots, and you—” he pointed at Nat and she lifted an eyebrow that didn’t deter him, “—you tell all of us, in detail, about different fuel types, practically every day—” Nat pulled a face but didn’t deny it, “—so what’s the deal with me loving my plants?”

“There’s no deal,” Sam piped up. “We’re all eternally grateful, aren’t we guys? Everyone say thank you, Barnes, for gifting us with real potatoes.”

“I don’t need sarcasm from someone obsessed with dirt,” Bucky said, mostly joking, and Sam threatened him with a fork.

“Watch yourself. If you didn’t have dirt you wouldn’t have any of your plants.”

Bucky kept guard as the potatoes disappeared into the oven, and then sat down next to Steve. Wanda cracked open a bag of wine, courtesy of Tony who believed it was a necessity to have on board, and they all gathered around the table to reminisce and relax.

“You think they’ll taste good?” Bucky asked, looking across at Steve. He had his hand firmly on Steve’s thigh and Steve had his free arm over the back of Bucky’s chair, the other holding onto his precious cup of wine. He felt vaguely buzzed and all fuzzy and warm. The smells, sounds, and company were delightful. Even their utilitarian kitchen had managed to look cosy.

“I’m sure they will, Buck,” he said, bring his hand up to thread his fingers through the hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck. “And even if they don’t—you grew them. That’s amazing in itself.”

Bucky smiled. “I don’t mean to always talk about plants,” he said softly.

“You don’t,” Steve told him. “It’s just your thing. I always talk about systems ops and even I know that’s more boring than plants.”

“Can you say that again so I can record it?” Bucky asked, and Steve rolled his eyes.

Thor reappeared looking rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, the way he always did when talking to his Jane.

“Barton,” he boomed, looming in the doorway. “What about the tree?”

“Fuck,” Clint said, jumping up. “I totally forgot.”

He ran up the steps and vanished out of sight, Thor on his heels.

“I thought Riley looked good,” Sam said, eyeing the cactus.

“He still might,” Nat shook her head.

Clint and Thor came back, rolling something with them which they carefully manoeuvred down the steps.

“What the hell is this?” Bucky said under his breath. Steve took his hand and squeezed it.

The _thing_ was rolled to the small area of mostly-empty wall and Clint and Thor lifted the sheet from it. Thor said a quiet ‘ta-da’, looking pleased with himself.

It was one of Wanda’s old robots, with tube LEDs coiled around it. An old reactor from a decommissioned EVA suit was secured to the top, like a star. And little trinkets were carefully tied to the robot’s various arms. Steve recognised his little American flag and Bucky’s yet unsolved rubix cube.

“Wow,” said Bucky. “I’m actually impressed.”

“I am glad to hear it,” said Thor. “I am surprised me and Clint were actually able to do this.”

Steve couldn’t stop grinning. It was the most perfect Christmas ‘tree’ the crew could have. It made total sense.

“I want a family picture,” he said, standing and rooting around for a camera. He knew it was hidden in one of the drawers, somewhere. “Come on, everyone up. Including you, Nat. Everyone around the tree.”

They gathered. Sam lifted the lid off a pot and then joined them all, grabbing Riley so he wouldn’t be left out. Thor stood at the back with Bucky. Steve set up the camera, balancing it on an upturned plastic beaker, and set the timer. He moved quickly so he could be standing next to Bucky, taking his hand. In front of him, Nat was mussing Clint’s hair to make it look tidier.

“Okay, serious one first,” Steve said, and he gave his most professional neutral gaze, the one he’d used when he was photographed as part of the mission announcements. There was ten seconds of silence and then the camera clicked.

“Now a happy one!” Thor enthused. “We are not miserable.”

Laughter rolled through the crew. Wanda was giggling. Steve could hear Bucky trying not to laugh as well. The camera clicked.

“And one dumb one for luck,” Nat said, and they all spent six seconds trying to figure out what pose and/or facial expression they were going to choose. Steve settled on pulling Bucky close and kissing his cheek. The camera clicked again.

“The carrots!” Wanda said, jumping up. Bucky, Nat, and Clint admired the tree. Steve went to the camera.

Three photos. The first, professional, the kind Pepper would release to the public with a statement about the crew having a good winter season out in space. The second, possibly a public contender, too, to humanise them all, but otherwise an image that put a smile on Steve’s face, seeing them all grinning and laughing, the tree gleaming in the middle.

And the third was the best. He knew he’d be printing that one out to stick to the fridge door. Thor grinning, hands thrust forward in a thumbs up. Wanda with her hands under her chin like she was a cherub. Sam lovingly cradling Riley. Nat and Clint doing the classic back-to-back-with-guns pose, except Clint was mid-blink. And then Steve, kissing Bucky firmly, with Bucky looking exasperated, eyes rolling, even as he pulled Steve close.

A nice photo. A nice day.

The dinner was amazing. Sam had procured gravy from somewhere, and Bucky’s potatoes were ‘literally the best’, according to Clint, and the bird was like it was fresh. They drank some more wine and wore paper party hats and Riley and the robot tree twinkled and the vent tinsel wiggled and Steve didn’t miss home once.

Sam brought out the pie Peggy had smuggled them and Clint teared up.

“I don’t even think pie is the best desert,” he said, accepting his slice regardless and eating it with glee.

There was a chirping sound, Tony calling in for a festive check-up. His face appeared on the tablet Clint propped against the wall.

“Well you all look festive!” he almost shouted, the image wavering and the audio out of place for a moment before the connection levelled out.

“Hi Tony, how’s your day been?” Steve greeted him. Tony was the director of the mission, and a good friend of them all.

“Fabulous, especially with the data dumps we received this morning. Anything to declare before the techs open it after the holiday?”

“Your accelerant is shit, Stark,” Nat called out, and Tony pulled a face.

“Don’t criticise me at this time of year,” he said, and then he checked in on everyone else, talking at speed before wishing a good day and signing off. A minute later, the radio hissed, making half of the crew glance up at the ceiling, and then loud rock music began to play, piped in courtesy of Tony. It took twenty minutes before Wanda could cut the line and return them all to the quieter sounds of Sam’s curated festive playlist. Steve was the first to stand and dance jauntily with Bucky to the sound of the Jingle Bell Rock, dancing him over to the doorway so they were under the mistletoe together.

The rest of the evening meant final checks on the ship, which took just under an hour, and then they were all gathered in the rec room to watch some movies. Steve commandeered the two-person seat in the corner and hugged Bucky close to him, happy to just sit with him and his friends and crewmates and watch the classic Christmas films that reminded him of his childhood.

By nightfall, there were final goodnights, hugs, further wishes of _merry Christmas_ , and then they were departing for the night. Thor went first, itching to talk to Jane, Wanda close behind, for Pietro. Then Sam to talk to the real, human Riley. And then Steve went too with Bucky, leaving Nat and Clint half-asleep on couch.

“This was nice,” Bucky said as they entered Steve’s quarters. Steve felt all tired all of a sudden, entirely ready for sleep.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It was. Wanda and Sam outdid themselves.”

“Because of me.”

“Because of you, yes.”

They got ready for bed. Skipping showers to just get into pyjamas and brush teeth. Turning down the lights. Climbing into bed.

“When we’re back home, we’ll have all the potatoes you can eat,” Bucky said softly.

“I’m gonna hold you to that promise,” Steve whispered against his mouth.

Bucky drifted off first, and Steve took a moment to stare out through the narrow window at the dark expanse outside and listen. Bucky’s breathing. The ghost of Christmas music as if it was still playing somewhere. And then the ship’s engines. He’d always liked their dull rumble. A monotonous white noise, a constant hum. It meant that everything was running smoothly, that they were moving, that all systems, from the reactor core to the ventilation ducts, were, for the most part, in full working order. It was in his quarters that the sound reached its best pitch, tone, cadence. It was away from the beeps and whistles of the deck, away from the chatter of his crew mates. It was faintly muffled by the deck plates, creating a cocoon of sound which never failed to send him right to sleep.

And with Bucky plastered to his side, exhaling softly over his neck, he knew it didn’t get much better than this. He watched the faint shadows cast by the solar sails outside dancing across his ceiling and buried his nose in Bucky’s hair. It had been a good Christmas. Perhaps one of the best he’d ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> saturnblushes on tumblr and pinterest


End file.
